It's A Long Way Down
by OfPensAndPencils
Summary: AU: Castiel Fell before the Righteous Man was ever born, causing a rift in both Heaven's and Hell's plans. Reborn as a human, he quickly noticed that something wrong happened during His Fall. He remembers it.
1. Introduction

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural nor do I claim any profits from it or its characters.**

 **Read and Review!**

-:-

 **July 8th, 1978.**

"Ceceila! Are you getting this? This could be the find of the lifetime! Our big break! Oh God, Henry this is it. The moment we will get enough footage to be taken seriously."

The small group was in chaos. Their makeshift camp was buzzing, excited voices shooting off at every corner. A man and a woman were at the cameras, pointing them at the cause of all the commotion.

The sky.

It seemed to be partially on fire, three single flames dancing in the sky. They seemed to be dancing towards _them._ They seemed to be... slanting. Downwards. Like they were reaching out to them. The group watched on in awe at the long streaks. "What is it? What are... _they?_ "

The man in front simply shook his head. All the excitement from moments before had worn off, and had turned to awe. To surprise. "I don't know." He breathed, taking her hand as he did.

The man behind them kept by the cameras, making sure that everything was being recorded. This was important. This was something that couldn't be missed.

The woman let out a gasp. They were tumbling downwards, growing larger and brighter with each metre. At the last moment two of them shot back up, as if they were being pulled back up. The third, the smallest, went faster, like its life depended on it. They couldn't believe their eyes.

The man at the cameras, Henry, fell to the ground. A bright glow was shining on his two campmates, and suddenly, they were pulling at each other viciously, biting and scratching each other like animals. The truth clicked just before the ground began to shake.

 _All you have to do is lie together... Prepare my descent..._

They were stripping each other, preparing to commit the greatest sin without even being married. Henry covered his ears, desperate to sound out the Voice, the shaking, the shrieks of pain he was making. He screwed his eyes shut fully, not trusting himself to keep them open.

He couldn't let whatever this was get to him.

 _Open your eyes human. Open them. I mean no harm._

Slowly, he opened them, taking a glance at the figure towering before him. He never opened them again.

-:-

On July the 6th, 1978, three lifelong friends went on a camping trip to film footage never seen before.

On July the 9th, 1978, only one was found, with two broken cameras and melted eyes.

On July the 8th, 1978, Castiel Fell from Heaven, choosing a suitable couple to house him.

-:-

 **Well. That's done. Not completely, but the first chapter, which I wrote in a rush BTW. In case you haven't connected the dots, the ~loved~ up couple was Gregory and Ceceila Novak (I made up Ceceila's name because I wasn't too sure what it actually was.) Who, you guessed it, were the parents of Jimmy Novak! YAY!**

 **Why did Castiel fall? Who were the other two angels? What were they doing? Who knows? Well I do, but that's beside the point. Other chapters will be smoother, better and longer.**

 **Read and Review for more!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note at the bottom!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural nor do I claim any profits from the show or the characters.**

 **Thank you to bookwriter123456 for reviewing! And to all who followed!**

 **Enjoy!**

-:-

 **November 2nd, 1983.**

"Is this Ceceila Novak?

Ceceila Novak was in her office, playing through her voicemails. It wasn't as if she had been gone long - as a matter of fact she had only been with a patient - but she liked to keep on top on things.

And her voicemails were always interesting to listen to.

The voicemail played on. "Uh, this is Estelle, I work at the school." Ceceila shot up from her trance, the warning bells ringing in her mind waking her up. "Castiel fainted today. We need either you or your husband to come pick him up. It's nothing serious, but he hit his head. Hard. But not too hard. Nothing to worry about." She added, obviously realising that she was contradicting herself.

"He's confused. He's crying, oh God... He just threw up. We need you to come as soon as possible. Just... come as soon as you can. Goodbye." She scrambled for her car keys as soon as it ended, grabbing them so quickly she almost cut herself of them.

Her baby was sick.

Hurt, confused, probably wondering why she hadn't collected him yet. She prayed to God that Greg had collected him. Jimmy too. That message had been around an hour ago. Had he had time to hear it? Or was Castiel still in that office, crying his eyes out?

She ran out of the building, giving the receptionist a small wave as she did. The voicemail was on a constant loop in her mind, each word bearing bad news. When she finally got in the car, her brain had twisted it, making each word a thousand different Hells, a thousand different ways that her child had been hurt.

Her hands were shaking as she turned on the ignition.

She took a deep breath as she put her hands on the wheel. She took another as she pressed her foot onto the pedal.

She took her last as she was rammed into the ditch, by a van that seemed to disappear as fast as it came.

-:-

 _Castiel_ _wasn't awake_ _. That, he was certain of. He could tell by the way he moved, by the way certain things in his line of sight were... blurry. By the way the people's, no matter how paranoid or nervous, eyes just sweeped past him, laying on whatever he was standing in front of._

 _But that didn't mean it wasn't real._

 _He was watching a family. A small, young family to be exact. Even though he was only_ _five_ _, he understood what was going to happen._ _His parents being therapists, he was well adjusted like that._ _And his heart ached for them. It always ached for these unlucky few, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time._

 _It always ached for the cursed._

 _He couldn't stop though. He couldn't look away, snap himself awake. He had no control. His body always took over, telling his mind what to do._ _Oh, h_ _e wished that it didn't._

 _The family were_ _jesting_ _with each other, laughing and smiling and chatting excitedly as they ate. A small baby was beside them, fast asleep. This seemed to be the object of most of their jokes. A baby. Of course. What was funnier?_

 _He watched as they laughed, as they smiled, as they continued eating their dinner. He watched as they washed up, as they complimented the mother on her cooking. He watched as they went to watch a cartoon, and he watched when they went upstairs._

 _Where it would all go down._

 _Somehow, Castiel knew that before anything even happened. They said their good nights to the baby,_ _little_ _Sammy_ _Winchester_ _he_ _had_ _learned, and to each other._ _Would this be the last time they ever said anything to each other?_ _The boy around his age went to his own bedroom. The mother went to hers. The father, however, decided to go downstairs to watch football._

 _He wanted to turn back now. But he couldn't._ _Not even if the reality of the situation made his stomach churn._ _He had to watch._

 _So he did. He watched as the mother woke up,_ _awoken by the small beeping baby monitor_ _. He watched as she saw her husband with the baby. He watched as she saw her husband downstairs. He watched as she ran upstairs, to her baby_ _, to where she had just seen her husband._ _And then..._

 _Fire._

 _He watched as yellow eyes met her blue ones, the flames growing between them. Yellow. He always_ _had_ _hated the colour. The fire was growing, growing hotter and hotter and bigger and larger and... Oh my God..._

 _Bam. The mother died._

 _Bam. The real father found her._

 _Bam. The boy around his age grabbed the baby on his father's orders._

 _Bam. The house burned._

 _Bam. The man with yellow eyes found Castiel, and smiled_ _a rotten smile, as if the whole thing was a joke_ _._ _As if he was next._

 _And with the man raising a finger to his_ _wicked grin_ _, the_ _whole thing_ _faded._

-:-

"I'm sorry... She didn't make it."

Castiel wished that he could fade away. That he could wake up, away from this Hell that his life had turned into.

-:-

Ceceila Novak died on the 2nd of November 1983, leaving her husband and children behind.

She died alongside Mary Winchester.

-:-

 **IMPORTANT!**

 **YOU MAY BE WONDERING WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!**

 **This chapter was just to set the ball rolling! The next will be** _ **much**_ **clearer. And longer!**

 **Okay. So, many questions may be on your mind. Most of them I can answer. Others... well, whatever. Okay. The whole dates thing is back, although I think I might stick with that.**

 **Biggest question time. I killed Ceceila to get the ball rolling. I'm sorry. I actually liked writing her, but you know, stories need to be made.**

 **So. What's Azael doing hanging about? BEING A MAJOR PLAYER THAT'S WHAT. Antagonist alert.**

 **What's happening to Castiel? How could he see that whole thing unfold?**

 **When will the Winchesters meet with young Novak?**

 **God, I SWEAR it will all come soon.**

 **Cas will remember his past.**

 **Heaven and Hell will want revenge.**

 **Bobby Singer will be himself. (Which is enough reason to favourite this by itself.) Joking.**

 **Anyways, next chapter or two will be getting into the plot better. BIG-TIME! Woo!**

 **So until next time, my lovelies. Reviews always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note at the bottom!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural.**

 **Thank you for all your lovely follows!**

-:-

 _Don't worry Castiel. We'll find a way to fix you. We_ always _do. No matter how far you fall._

Castiel felt... broken.

There was no other way to describe it. Staring down at the casket, at her _grave..._ there were no words. None. But broken seemed to fit. It was ironic, actually. The only word that fit perfectly was the only one that was meant to... not.

Castiel had no words.

He didn't want them anyways. What could he say? No. He was quite happy were he was. Well... He was fine where he was. Staring down at a coffin, his tongue stuck in his throat, tears saying all that there was to say.

It was funny how his twin had a different approach.

Jimmy Novak was... angry. Furious even. At life, at God, even at his own father. Castiel was the only one he was real with. The only one he could talk to without bursting into a tantrum, or worse, tears.

Therapy was quick to come into their lives.

Their father acted quickly, doing his job well. They both felt slightly better after their small sessions. They both felt like life was worth living again.

And for a while, they were okay.

Of course, there were empty spaces. Black dizzy holes where everything was contorted, where nothing made sense and everything was nothing. Their father was affected by them the most.

But Castiel was the one who shut down. The world seemed to slip away, only nightmares of Yellow Eyes and evil laughs filling the void. He couldn't shut them up. He couldn't ignore them, ignore the way that he had smiled. The way the smile seemed to say, "You're next. And there's nothing you can do about it."

The way his eyes had picked him out when he wasn't even there at all. He felt like he was trapped. Stuck in a endless loop. Therapy helped.

But no amount of therapy could convince him that that had just all have been a bad dream.

That it wasn't his fault.

-:-

 **July 27th, 1987.**

It had been four years since Ceceila had died.

Four years since their lives fell apart.

Four years since Castiel had seen Azael, or any demon for that matter.

Four years since their lives had any sense of normality.

He was okay though. _They_ were okay. Strangely enough, they were fine. Until the changes kicked in.

Gregory had insisted that his children would learn about their religion, and more importantly, their duty to God. They didn't mind this sudden change, in fact, they enjoyed going back to church. Especially considering that the last time they were on the church their visit was shadowed with Ceceila's loss.

Castiel still couldn't shake off the feeling that he had had his own share of "duties." He didn't mind going though. He actually rather enjoyed praying. He enjoyed being able to talk to someone about... it.

He and Jimmy rather enjoyed church.

Which had probably led to this.

"Jimmy, Castiel, say hello to the Pastor." Gregory and the twins were at the church, talking to their usual Pastor. Somehow, their father had decided that them serving each Sunday wasn't enough. He wanted them to experience the church and it's wonders firsthand.

In other words, he was leaving Pastor Jim to babysit them while he went off to work.

"Hey."

"Hello." They both replied. The awkwardness in the air was almost unbearable. No one really knew what to say.

"Well. I'll be off. Take care. Jim, boys." Gregory waved them off, walking back to his car quickly. Even he couldn't stand the tension. Besides, he had better things to do than stand around all day. Namely, his job.

-:-

"So. What do you do for fun?" Pastor Jim and the twins were in the church, in a small room before the altar. It was littered with papers and books, all in various languages and handwritings. Jimmy was grilling the Pastor endlessly, shooting off with a thousand questions a minute. Castiel was just wandering about aimlessly.

"Depends, really. What do you do for fun?" Castiel could almost smile at how easily the Pastor deflected the question. He was skilled, alright.

"I dunno. What do _you_ do for fun?"

"You already asked me that." Pastor Jim smiled, passing the nine year old a book as he did. Castiel went into another room as the two continued asking and deflecting questions, poking around the numerous files and letters that were around the church. He was rather disorganized for a priest.

"Well, that question is rather... complex. It can have a thousand different answers, and I wouldn't really be the person to ask." Castiel listened to make sure that they didn't notice that didn't notice his absence yet.

He wanted some alone time.

He picked up a small envelope, perhaps against his better judgement. He hesitated as he held it in his hands. If he opened it, he would be breaking all his moral codes. Every. Single. One.

In the end, his curiosity won out. He opened the envelope, and reached into it.

-:-

"So. How have you been feeling lately?" Gregory asked his patient, opening her file. "Any relapses? Bad thoughts?"

The patient, a young, skinny redhead, looked up at him and smiled. "I was just thinking... Dr. Novak, isn't it?" He nodded importantly as she continued. "What about we play a little game. You ask me a question, and I ask you one. Deal?"

"I really don't see why, Miss Dare. But..." He hesitated, weighing out his options. It couldn't be too bad. "I don't see why not either. Ask away." He leaned back into his leather chair, happy with his decision.

"Tell me about your sons, please."

-:-

Pictures.

The envelope was full of pictures. Happy pictures with happy people, all smiling. He lifted one up. It was a picture of a small baby, being held by a beautiful woman.

By _the_ woman.

His mouth dried up almost immediately. He felt like he was back in one of those black spots, where all he could do was watch as his world slipped away. Where everything was nothing and nothing was everything and all he could do was watch and watch and watch and slip and-

"Hey, Cas... You okay?" He snapped out of his trance. Jimmy and the Pastor were there, watching him with concerned expressions. Castiel couldn't look away from the photo, from the woman who he killed. Another mother that was dead because of him. The Voice was right. He was useless, he was _broken_ and he couldn't be fixed, because he broke everything he touched and he didn't matter and-

"Sorry Jimmy, excuse me. Castiel? Are you alright?" The Pastor took the picture out of his hands. "Was this upsetting you? Do you miss your mother?" Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He was so _wrong,_ yet he was so right. Why did the Pastor get to be like that?

"She's dead... I... I killed her." He collapsed into tears, pulling himself into his brother's chest. Pastor Jim watched on in shock. How could this child, who had never left the state in his life, think that he had killed Mary Winchester?

-:-

"That must be hard. Being a single parent, I mean. What do you do when you have to go to work? What happens then?" Miss Dare asked, leaning towards him.

"I get them a babysitter, Miss Dare. Now, I believe that it's my turn to ask a question..."

"Wait. Just one more question." She said quickly, cutting him off. He nodded impatiently as she started to think of it. "Where are they today?"

"With the Pastor. Now-" He stopped as she stood up, waving a long knife in her fingers.

"I suggest you take me there."

-:-

 **Ohhhh... Well. Reviews would be nice.**

 **ANYWAYS! Next chapter will have plenty more new faces, so I suggest you stick around for that. ;) I would hint at who that Voice was, but eh, I'm sure that you figured it out. Or maybe, you might just... ~remember~. Hint hint, nudge nudge.**

 **For the next chapter, I have a... trick... up my sleeve.**

 **Maybe a Winchester or two.**

 **Or a surrogate father.**

 **And perhaps a crappy one.**


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